2003/Brown/250
The Holy Grail is a woman, Sophie thought, her mind a collage of interrelated ideas that seemed to make no sense. "You said you have a picture of this woman who you claim is the Holy Grail." "Yes, but it is not I who claim she is the Grail. Christ Himself made that claim." "Which one is the painting?" Sophie asked, scanning the walls. "Hmmm . . ." Teabing made a show of seeming to have forgotten. "The Holy Grail. The Sangreal. The Chalice." He wheeled suddenly and pointed to the far wall. On it hung an eight-foot-long print of The Last Supper, the same exact image Sophie had just been looking at. "There she is!" Sophie was certain she had missed something. "That's the same painting you just showed me." He winked. "I know, but the enlargement is so much more exciting. Don't you think?" Sophie turned to Langdon for help. "I'm lost." Langdon smiled. "As it turns out, the Holy Grail does indeed make an appearance in The Last Supper. Leonardo included her prominently." "Hold on," Sophie said. "You told me the Holy Grail is a woman. The Last Supper is a painting of thirteen men." "Is it?" Teabing arched his eyebrows. "Take a closer look." Uncertain, Sophie made her way closer to the paining, scanning the thirteen figures -- Jesus in the middle, six disciples on His left, and six on His right. "They're all men," she confirmed. "Oh?" Teabing said. "How about the one seated in the place of honor, at the right hand of the Lord?" Sophie examined the figure to Jesus' immediate right, focusing in. As she studied the person's face and body, a wave of astonishment rose within her. The individual had flowing red hair, delicate folded hands, and the hint of a bosom. It was, without a doubt . . . female. "That's a woman!" Sophie exclaimed. Teabing was laughing. "Surprise, surprise. Believe me, it's no mistake. Leonardo was skilled at painting the difference between the sexes." Sophie could not take her eyes from the woman beside Christ. The Last Supper is supposed to be thirteen men. Who is this woman? Although Sophie had seen this classic image many times, she had not once noticed this glaring discrepancy. "Everyone misses it," Teabing said. "Our preconceived notions of this scene are so powerful that our mind blocks out the incongruity and overrides our eyes." "It's known as scotoma," Langdon added. "The brain does it sometimes with powerful symbols." "Another reason you might have missed the woman," Teabing said, "is that many of the photographs in art books were taken before 1954, when the details were still hidden beneath layers of grime and several restorative repaintings done by clumsy hands in the eighteenth century. Now, at last, the fresco has been cleaned down to Da Vinci's original layer of paint." He motioned to the photograph. "Et voilà!" Sophie moved closer to the image. The woman to Jesus' right was young and pious-looking, with a demure face, beautiful red hair, and hands folded quietly. This is the woman who singlehandedly could crumble the Church? "Who is she?" Sophie asked. "That, my dear," Teabing replied, "is Mary Magdalene." Sophie turned. "The prostitute?" Teabing drew a short breath, as if the word had injured him personally. "Magdalene was no such thing. That unfortunate misconception is the legacy of a smear campaign launched by the early Church. The Church needed to convince the world that the mortal prophet Jesus was a divine being. Therefore, any gospels that described earthly aspects of Jesus' life had to be omitted from the Bible. Unfortunately for the early editors, one particularly troubling earthly theme kept recurring in the gospels. Mary Magdalene." He paused. "More specifically, her marriage to Jesus Christ." "I beg your pardon?" Sophie's eyes moved to Langdon and then back to Teabing. "It's a matter of historical record," Teabing said, "and Da Vinci was certainly aware of that fact. The Last Supper practically shouts at the viewer that Jesus and Magdalene were a pair." Sophie glanced back to the fresco. "Notice that Jesus and Magdalene are clothed as mirror images of one another." Teabing pointed to the two individuals in the center of the fresco. Sophie was mesmerized. Sure enough, their clothes were inverse colors. Jesus wore a red robe and blue cloak; Mary Magdalene wore a blue robe and red cloak. Yin and yang. "Venturing into the more bizarre," Teabing said, "note that Jesus and His bride appear to be joined at the hip and are leaning away from one another as if to create this clearly delineated negative space between them." Even before Teabing traced the contour for her, Sophie saw it -- the indisputable shape at the focal point of the painting. It was the same symbol Langdon had drawn earlier for the Grail, the chalice, and the female womb.